


Steven Rogers Says

by Marvelite5Ever



Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Gen, M/M, Nathan doesn't completely suck at being comforting, Origins of Marvel Comics, Steve Rogers keeps a journal, Steve's journal entries about Deadpool are hilarious, Wade is upset by what Steve Rogers has written about him, and Wade apparently counts as all three, and X-Men, and villains, he keeps entries of heroes, it could just be bromance, there's only the barest hints of Cablepool actually, whatever you want - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 07:57:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4556811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelite5Ever/pseuds/Marvelite5Ever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cable comes to recruit Deadpool to his X-Force team post-Second Coming (because you know he really should've), and Wade complains about what Steve wrote about him in his journal.</p>
<p>Also, we find out how the comic "Deadpool vs. X-Force" came to exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steven Rogers Says

**Author's Note:**

> Steve's journal entries are legit canon from the Journal of Steven Rogers in _Origins of Marvel Comics._ So yeah, I didn't actually write any of Steve's entries myself. I copied them from a comic. Wade and Nate's reactions were me, though ;P
> 
> This fic takes place after the whole Second Coming thing, after Cable's death but also after his return to life, but before he forms his new X-Force group (or while he's forming it). This also takes place before the new Deadpool run (the one that starts with the dead presidents thing).
> 
> I'm knocking down two birds with one stone, here: Wade complains about what Steve wrote about him (because what Steve writes about him is honestly hilarious), and Cable comes to recruit Deadpool to his X-Force team (cuz you know he really should've, cuz it's somewhat annoying how comics canon has pretty much forgotten about their relationship).

Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the dull pounding in his head, Nathan knocked on Deadpool's door with his right hand, as his left arm, now flesh instead of metal, still feeling odd as he let it hang by his side, too light and too weak. 

From inside Deadpool's apartment came the sound of a ruckus, which was maybe why Wade hadn't answered. 

Trying the door, Nathan found it to be unlocked—as per usual when Wade was home—and he let himself in.

As soon as he stepped into the room, a couch cushion nearly hit him in the head. 

“Where are they where are they WHERE ARE THEY?!” Wade demanded, seeming to be searching for something as he tore all the cushions and pillows off his couch. His entire apartment was a mess—the cupboards and closets had been emptied, and weapons, clothes, DVD cases, and various pieces of trash were scattered all over the floor.

Nathan walked gingerly, so as not to step on anything. “What are you looking for?” he asked. 

“My inhibitions, my conscience, and my good looks,” Wade answered, sitting back on his heels as he frowned and scratched at his head as though puzzled. He was wearing nothing but a pair of Deadpool boxers (where did Wade get all his Deadpool merchandise?), his damaged skin and distinguished muscles on full display. “Although I'm actually pretty sure I lost my good looks in Canada, my conscience in Ohio, and that I never had any inhibitions to begin with... but it can't hurt to look just in case, right?” 

“As far as I can tell, you still have all three,” Nathan answered. 

“Hardy har har,” Wade said dryly, practically falling onto the sans-cushion couch, letting his head lean back as he looked up at the mutant. “So, 'sup wit' you, Nate?” Then Wade blinked, his eyes going wide. “NATE!” he exclaimed, leaping up off the no doubt uncomfortable couch and wrapping Nathan in a hug. “You're alive! Again!” 

Then, as suddenly as he'd hugged the mutant, he let go of him, eyes narrowed as he picked up a gun off the floor in the blink of an eye and had it pointed at the man's forehead. “Wait, you're not Nate!” he growled out. “What kind of an impostor doesn't know that Nate has a metal arm?! And what the hell's with the eyepatch?!” 

“I'm not an impostor, Wade,” Nathan said patiently.

“I don't believe you!” Wade said, glaring at him heatedly. “Prove it!” 

“Your zipper is down,” Nathan said immediately. 

Wade looked down at his crotch and the Deadpool boxers he was wearing, before his head snapped back up to glare in annoyance at the man he was aiming his gun at.

Nathan was smirking. “Made you look.” 

“There were others on the island at the time!” Wade protested, not unreasonably. “They could have heard that!” 

Nathan sighed, sobering. “The T-O was dispelled from my body,” he explained, meeting Wade's gaze with his one good eye, which was now his left rather than his right. “The T-O was imprinted in my DNA, and now without it, my body is... proving problematic. Here, look,” he gestured to indicate his body and face. “The muscles on my left side are atrophied now that the T-O is gone, and I lost my eye. I have Forge working on something to make my arm work, as well as a more advanced eyepatch.” 

Wade looked at him, scrutinizing at first, then almost impressed as he lowered the gun. “Man, your T-O is _constantly_ giving you problems, even when you don't have it!” he declared, like that officially settled the dilemma in his mind about whether Nathan was the real Priscilla McCoy Summers or not. Raising a questioning, hairless eyebrow, he asked, “But your powers are also always giving you problems, so, what's up with them now?” 

“...My powers are giving me spontaneous migraines,” Nathan admitted, after staring at the mercenary for a few moments. “They _might_ be killing me. I'm going to have a doctor take a look.”  
Wade whistled. _“Damn,_ Nate,” he said, gesturing exasperatedly with the gun that was still in his hand. “It's like you're _constantly dying!”_

“That's one way of putting it, I suppose,” Nathan said wryly. 

“So, how's the kid taking it?” Wade asked pointedly, the scarred skin of his eyebrows twitching upwards as he held Nathan's gaze. 

“...” Nathan said, glancing away. 

“She doesn't know, does she?” Wade asked, something like amusement in his tone. 

“...” Nathan continued. 

“You pushed her away, didn't you?” Wade said, knowing and smug about it. 

“...” was Nathan's awkward response. 

Wade laughed. “That's _always_ your reaction, Nate,” he pointed out, in a 'ermahgerd you're so damn predictable' tone. “You _do_ realize you're not gonna be able to _keep_ her away, right?” 

“I can try,” Nathan said, meeting the mercenary's gaze defiantly. 

Wade's brown eyes widened. “Wow, Nate, you are _really_ trying hard to steal my 'Complete And Utter Idiot' title,” he said, somewhere between awed and affronted. “Trying to get possession of the trophy and get your name engraved on it, huh?”

“...” was Nathan's incredibly intelligent comeback. 

“Okay, fine, change of subject,” Wade said, waving his gun dismissively as he took pity on the poor guy, before meeting Nathan's gaze again with a no-nonsense intensity. “Why are you _here,_ Nate?” 

Nathan seemed much more comfortable with this change of subject. “I'd like you to join the new X-Force team I'm putting together,” he said immediately. 

Wade just stared at him for a moment, before laughing again, absentmindedly tossing his gun onto the cushionless couch as he wiped exaggeratedly at an eye, as if that was so hilarious he was crying from laughter. “Wow, you're really making a go for my 'Ridiculously Hilarious/Hilariously Ridiculous' trophy too, aren't you?” 

“It's not a joke,” Nathan said stiffly. 

Wade looked at him with raised brows. “Then why have you been ignoring me in canon basically since our team-up series ended?!” he demanded, expression quickly turning annoyed. He began counting grievances on his fingers: “You call me to help you with the baby, you meet a me in the future and you can't even remember being friends with me—yes, _I read Messiah War,_ don't you dare think I didn't! I was _part of it_ and I'm very self-aware, thank you!—and you bring the messiah girl back and she's a teenager and you _sacrifice yourself again._ Just,” he gestured exasperatedly, “what the _hell,_ Nate?!” 

“I told you the T-O was giving me problems, right?” Nathan said with a sigh, not meeting the merc's gaze. 

“Yeah, so what?” Wade snorted. “Your T-O is _always_ giving you problems.” 

“Well, one of the things it did, was...” Nathan paused, running his tongue between his dry lips, uncomfortable. “The T-O was messing with my brain,” he said, voice lowering. “I wasn't... _thinking_ quite right, for a while, there.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “Some of the damage was to my memories.” 

“So...?” Wade prompted, arms crossed. 

“I... _forgot..._ some things,” Nathan said, looking back at Wade. “But now that the T-O is gone, and when I'm not suffering from splitting headaches, I _remember.”_ He sighed, his expression somewhere between demanding and pleading as he searched the mercenary's gaze. “Wade, I... _need_ you on my team.” 

“Nope,” Wade shook his head vehemently. “I can't. Nuh-uh.” He waved his hands in a 'hell no' motion in front of him. “Bad, bad idea, Priscilla.” 

Nathan looked at him discerningly. “What upset you earlier?” 

Wade blinked. “What d'ya mean?” 

“Why were you looking around your apartment for qualities you believe you've lost,” Nathan said, his one good eye narrowed and blue. And it was still weird to Wade to look at Nathan's _left_ eye as the normal, blue one that showed emotion, when he was so used to looking at his _right_ one.

“...Because I lost them?” Wade tried. 

Nathan tilted his head just slightly, a movement which also caused his chin to raise. “I don't think you have,” he said evenly. “I think you still have them, you just don't see them.” 

Wade rolled his eyes. “You're hilarious,” he said flatly.

“I thought that was your job,” Nathan pointed out, lips quirking almost imperceptibly upwards.

“It _is_ my job!” Wade exclaimed, gesticulating with his hands. “And so is acting stupid! So seriously, Nate, stop trying to steal my gigs!” 

Nathan just looked at him, waiting. 

“So, uh,” Wade said, looking down and trying to shove his hands into his pockets only to realize he didn't have any, and crossing his arms instead. “What do you think about Steve Rogers' ability as a judge of character?” 

“He's alright when he manages to be objective,” Nathan answered, “but he tends to be biased.” His lone white eyebrow lifted questioningly. Damn, with that eyepatch, he really needed a photo taken of him standing next to Nick Fury, both of them with their grim, determined, grumpy cat expressions. That would be hilarious and Wade would totally frame it and put it on his wall. “Why?” 

“Cuz he doesn't think very much of me,” Wade mumbled, digging a bare toe into the blood-stained carpet. “Actually, I'm almost certainly sure that he hates me. And thinks I'm a total lost cause.” 

“And why do you say that?” Nathan asked evenly. 

“Because he wrote about me!” Wade exclaimed, throwing out his arms as he shifted his gaze back to Nathan's face. “In his _journal!_ In _three_ different entries!” He held up three fingers to emphasize his point. “He has me listed as a super hero, a villain, _and_ and X-Man, and he had nothing good to say about me in _any_ of the entries! Here, just,” he walked over and picked a crumpled piece of paper off the floor, tossing it at Nathan, “just _read it.”_

Catching the piece of paper, Nathan carefully unfolded it, beginning to read it. 

~~~

**_Heroic Age: Super Heroes  
Journal of Steven Rogers – May 13 _ **

**Deadpool**

_~inserted: photo of Deadpool~_

**Affiliations:** Deadpool Corps, Code Red, Agency X, Great Lakes Initiative, Six Pack, One World Church, Deadpool Inc., Team Deadpool, Heroes for Hire, Secret Defenders, Frightful Four, Department K

**Status:** Free agent, fugitive; identity protected 

 

How someone like him could ever become a registered Initiative member is beyond me. Deadpool is a despicable assassin who would kill his grandmother if someone paid him for it. He sure is helpful if you wanted someone killed, but aside from his effectiveness as an assassin there is nothing good about him. Deadpool half-heartedly tried to better himself a few times, but returned to his old ways each time when it didn't work within five days. He is undisciplined, disgusting and not funny. The disturbing thing these days is that he seems to be everywhere, and people I call friends let him get away each and every time they meet him. He has even gathered a team of Deadpools, and according to rumors, they were sent on a mission to save the universe. I honestly hope this narcissist maniac gets sucked into a black hole. Unfortunately his powers make him more resilient than a cockroach. I'm sure he will cause more trouble in the future.

 

**Pros:** Healing factor, skilled combatant. 

**Cons:** Insane, mercenary, never shuts up. 

**Power Grid:**  
Power.............................7  
Conscience....................2  
Altruism........................1  
Wisdom.........................4  
Courage.........................4  
Determination...............5  
Free Will......................10  
Vulnerability.................5

 

~~~

As soon as he finished reading, Nathan looked up. 

Which Wade took as his cue to started ranting. 

“I have a lower mean average score than everybody except the _Man-Thing!”_ Wade exclaimed, beginning to pace angrily across the room, easily stepping over all the weapons and other items he'd scattered everywhere in his fruitless search earlier. “And I only beat the Man-Thing by 2.25 points! The next person after me (third-to-least-amount-of-points) was Ant-Man (the one from _Norman Osborn's Thunderbolts),_ and he had 1.5 points higher than me, and Steve at least wrote that he was redeemable! _Mettle_ beat me by 2.375 points! _Gibbon_ beat me by 2.625 points! _Moon Knight_ beat me by 3 points!

“And even then,” Wade continued, voice getting louder and gestures getting more emphatic, “Moon Knight got a _5_ in Conscience and a _6_ in Altruism. And Moon Knight's a _psychopath!_ Like, officially diagnosed as one! I am _not_ a psychopath, yet I have the same amount of _Altruism_ as the _Man-Thing!_ I have slightly more Conscience, maybe, but that's not saying much, cuz Man-Thing doesn't even _have any Conscience,_ cuz he's a _mindless swamp beast!_

“Maybe I have a fair amount of power, but my courage and my wisdom suck, my determination is flighty, my vulnerability is whatever, and I have way too much free will to be a follower! (Not that I consider that a bad thing.) But you know how bad I am at following orders and fucking up plans!” 

Wade whirled around to glare at Nathan, hands clenched by his sides. _“I am not a team player, Nate!”_

Nathan frowned as he looked back down at the paper in his hands. “I don't understand Steve's power grid,” he stated. 

“He explains it right here,” Wade grunted, picking up another piece of crumpled paper off the ground, among countless other crumpled pieces of paper, and handing it to the mutant. 

Nathan dutifully straightened it out and began reading. 

There was explanation of the context, with Steve wondering about what truly makes a hero, and apparently he had gone to the Navajo mystic the Crow to seek the answer from a higher realm. The Crow had put him in mediation, where he'd ventured in a Dreamscape and asked his question of the Sayge, the spirit of truth. The Sayge had apparently said this: 

~~~

 

_“Heroes reveal themselves through action and inaction, the choices which shape their destinies. Certain attributes must work together harmoniously to complete the hero's foundation._  
“The first attribute is power. Without power, a hero cannot carry out their decisions and must suffer in silence, having no effect on the world without them. [...]  
“The second attribute is conscience, an inner sense that lets one know what is right and what is wrong. Without conscience to guide a hero's actions, they cannot use their power heroically, in a manner that accomplishes good. […]  
“The third attribute is a sense of responsibility to others. A hero who has power and conscience can exercise their power to prevent others from coming to harm, but they are called to go beyond their own wishes and aid others, without thought of personal gain. The sense of responsibility guides heroes who have power and conscience to choose to help others for the sake of helping others. […]  
“The fourth attribute is wisdom. Ins pite of power, conscience and responsibility, a hero still requires discernment granted by wisdom to know the best means by which they can help others. [...]  
“The fifth attribute is courage. Having achieved power, conscience, responsibility and wisdom, a hero must possess the courage to risk their own life for the cause of heroism. […]  
“The sixth attribute is determination. Even the most powerful, conscientious, responsible, wise and courageous hero must suffer disappointment and failure. A true hero finds the determination to persevere in the face of overwhelming odds […]  
“The seventh attribute is free will. Those who have been forced by others to perform heroic deeds like an automaton must discover the spark of heroism within their soles. So much more wonderful are those heroes who choose to set their power, conscience, responsibility, wisdom, courage and determination to the banner of heroism […]  
“The eighth attribute is limitations. No true hero possesses unlimited power, for such a being would lack both courage and determination. The closer one is to their mortality, the better able they are to wield their power, conscience, responsibility, wisdom, courage, determination and free will together. It is in the struggle of mortals against the infinite power of the universe that you behold completed heroes.”

~~~

Nathan glanced up, still frowning, and Wade took off ranting again. 

“Which explains why I got such a low score for Courage and Vulnerability (though I still don't see why a high amount of vulnerability is a _good_ thing),” Wade rambled, and he really seemed to be upset about the whole thing. “Since I _can't die_ and I'm _not mortal,_ I can't be brave cuz I don't fear death or have to risk losing my life, and I can't wield all my attributes or whatever.” 

“Steve Rogers doesn't know you, Wade,” Nathan pointed out, crumpling the pieces of paper back up and walking across the room to throw them in the empty trash can, since apparently Wade had looked for his inhibitions, conscience, and good looks in there, too. “Not like I do.” Nathan turned to look at the mercenary seriously. “And I can tell you that some of Steve's scores for you are wrong, Wade.” 

“You're saying that _Captain America_ isn't a good judge of character?” Wade said with a huff, crossing his arms and looking at Nathan challengingly. 

“Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying,” Nathan stated, holding Wade's gaze. “And since when have you ever cared what someone like Steve Rogers thinks of you?” 

“Dude,” Wade said, looking down at the floor, his posture wilting. “Captain America was my childhood hero...” 

“Wade, _look at me,”_ Nathan said severely, crossing over and grabbing Wade's chin, forcing the merc to look at him. “You're a better person than you or Steve give you credit for. And courage isn't just about being willing to risk _dying_ for something—courage is facing _anything_ that you fear, no matter what that thing is. Wade,” he said, demeanor softening, “you show courage every time you go out in public without your mask, and you demonstrate determination every time you pick yourself up after a failure to keep going on.” 

Wade just looked at him bitterly, pulling away. 

“Wade,” Nathan said, letting him go, though his expression was almost pained. Insulted. “Do you _really_ believe Steve Rogers' opinion of your character more than _mine?_ Steve Rogers _doesn't even know you.”_ He looked almost angry. 

Scratch that—he _definitely_ looked angry. 

“And you do?” Wade asked challengingly. 

Nathan clenched his jaw. “I think I know you pretty well, Wade,” he grit out. 

“Then you can't argue with my Conscience or Altruism scores,” Wade said, raising his chin defiantly and crossing his arms over his bare chest. It was actually pretty impressive how threatening he could look while wearing nothing but boxers. (That was definitely one advantage to his marring skin condition.)

Nathan sighed, tense posture relaxing as he looked at the merc unflinchingly.“Wade, just the fact that you're _bothered_ by those scores shows that you do have conscience, and I _know_ that you can be altruistic,” he said seriously. “I've _seen_ it. But you're also a _mercenary_ —in order to live that lifestyle, you _have_ to have less conscience and altruism than the kinds of people you find in the public superhero teams like the Avengers and the X-Men.” He ran a hand back through his white hair, demanding, “Why do you _think_ I lead the black ops team _X-Force?_ I _need_ people who won't balk at killing when it's necessary.” He met Wade's gaze with his unblinking, unnerving eye. “I don't want you on my team because you're a _good person,_ Wade. I want you on my team because _you can do what needs to be done,_ and because you're _damn good at it.”_

Wade just stared at him for a moment. “Ugh, just _look_ at what Cap wrote about me in my _Villain_ entry!” he said, tossing another crumpled paper at the mutant. 

Sighing, took a step forward to catch it out of the air, tearing it slightly as he unfolded it to read it. 

~~~

**_Heroic Age: Villains  
Journal of Steven Rogers – June 2 _ **

**Deadpool**

_~inserted: photo of Deadpool~_

**Affiliations:** Deadpool Corps, Code Red, Agency X, Great Lakes Initiative, Six Pack, One World Church, Deadpool Inc., Weapon X, Team Deadpool, Heroes for Hire, Secret Defenders, Frightful Four, Department K 

**Enemies:** Captain America, Spider-Man, Wolverine, X-Men

 

It's telling that the best thing I can say about Deadpool is that when I was possessed by the alien Messiah, he incapacitated me with a low blow to save the universe. He is a mentally disturbed lunatic, who hears voices in his head. Looking at all the things he did over the years, I have to question if the things that actually could be considered good are enough to redeem him for all the cruel and twisted crimes he committed. The answer is clearly no in my opinion, but he can nonetheless be helpful in certain situations. His healing factor alone could save millions of lives if he went out of his way and started a career as a crash test dummy, but the problem is Deadpool is more interested in maiming people. I honestly don't know what to do with him. Putting him in prison endangers the other inmates, and letting him get away with everything endangers countless civilians. The biggest surprise to me is that people actually hire him because in many cases his clients end up dead as he doesn't know the meaning of loyalty. 

 

**Treatment:** Recommend long-term incarceration in a mental hospital and psychiatric aid, though I don't think the latter will work. 

 

**Classification**.........................Group  
**Goals**......................................Wealth  & Fame  
**Scope**.....................................Interplanetary  
**Means**....................................Mercenary 

 

~~~

After he'd finished reading, Nathan actually _laughed._

“What's so damn funny?!” Wade demanded indignantly, crossing his arms and glaring. 

“That Steve doesn't think you know the meaning of loyalty,” Nathan said, meeting the merc's gaze evenly, “when I know for a fact that you are very loyal to your friends.” 

Wade smirked slightly. “Yeah, and he doesn't know anything about being a merc for hire, and the kinda people who hire mercs. People are only ever 'loyal' to scumbags like that out of _fear._ And the thing about mercs for hire is that we're not loyal to _anyone!_ We're just in it for the money!” 

“Probably why Rogers doesn't like you,” Nathan pointed out. 

“And why the hell am I classified as a _group?!”_ Wade continued ranting, coming over to poke at the offending part of the paper. “Shouldn't I be classified as a _mutate?_ (Which I actually am classified as in my X-Men entry, go figure.)”

“Perhaps it has something to do with the Deadpool Corps?” Nathan suggested, glancing back up at 'Affiliations.' 

“But they're all _me!”_ Wade said, gesturing at himself. “But from different dimensions. _Everybody_ has alternate selves! (Except Fantomex.) And that would make _everyone_ a group!”  
Nathan shrugged. “Then I don't know. Perhaps it's a typo.” 

“And did you _see_ who he put as my enemies?!” Wade continued furiously, gesturing at the top part of the paper wildly, practically vibrating with self-righteous indignation. “First of all, he put _himself_ as my enemy! I _was not aware_ that I'm enemies with Captain America. And Spider-Man, Wolverine, and the X-Men are so _not_ my enemies! Hell, I consider them all _friends!”_

“Rogers obviously knows almost nothing about you,” Nathan stated.

“Exactly!” Wade agreed, throwing up his hands and walking in an annoyed circle around his dismantled couch.

“Therefore, you don't need to take anything he's written about you to heart, since it's obviously not true,” Nathan continued, looking at the mercenary sideways. 

“...” Wade narrowed his eyes at the mutant. 

“Will you join my team, Wade?” Nathan asked, turning to face the mercenary fully, with that demanding-pleading expression on his face again. 

“Here, read my X-Man entry,” Wade said immediately, tossing another piece of paper at him, too quickly to be anything but an avoidance tactic. 

But Nathan sighed and read the journal entry anyway. 

~~~

**_Heroic Age: X-Men  
Journal of Steve Rogers – June 17 _ **

**Deadpool**

_~inserted: photo of Deadpool in an X-Man uniform~_

**Classification:** Mutate (human)

**Last Sighting:** Las Vegas, Madripoor, England, Mexico, Hell, somewhere in space, alternate Earths (he is everywhere these days) 

 

Let the X-Men deal with him. Deadpool thinks he is one of them anyway. I really don't know what else to say about him. I never had an encounter with him that ended well and he is clinically insane. There were times when he actually did help people and he is good at what he does, but what he does is most of the time plain evil. He is a mercenary and an assassin with a healing factor given to him by the infamous Weapon X program. He is not a mutant, but that never stopped him from causing them the most trouble. Wolverine and Cable seem to be able to deal with him pretty well and woman can temporarily distract this chauvinistic pig (who often acts like a caveman around them) from killing people as well. I have to admit that at least his taste in women is good and Bea Arthur, a woman Deadpool admires, was indeed an attractive woman, but that is probably the only thing we have in common. 

 

~~~

Nathan looked up, smirking, eyebrow raising slightly. 

“Yeah, who knew that Steve was a Bea Arthur fan, huh?” Wade agreed, snickering from where he was draped backwards over the back of his re-cushioned couch, one leg bent up so that his ankle rested on his other knee. 

“Looks like he fixed his mistake of listing Wolverine as your enemy here,” Nathan noted, waving a hand at the paper. “And listing you as a group rather than a mutate.” 

“And at least he got it right that you can deal with me pretty well. And that I'm everywhere these days (because I really am),” Wade added, picking up his leg that was bracing him on the floor so that he slid down onto the couch, his back against the seat cushions with his head hanging off so that he was looking at Nathan upside-down, his legs bent over the back of the couch, feet waving indignantly in the air as he continued, “But I am _not_ a chauvinistic pig! And I do _not_ act like a caveman around women! I am extremely _suave_ around women, thank you very much!” He pointed over his head at Nathan, before going back to waving both arms around. “And seriously, who knew that _Captain America_ would resort to insults like that?!” 

“It's obviously a flaw in his character,” Nathan noted. 

“Which he totally shares with Spider-Man,” Wade said, crossing his arms over his chest and crossing his legs against the back of the couch. “Have you noticed that practically _all_ of Spider-Man's banter is just _insults?_ What _is_ it with righteous goody two-shoes that make them so mean? Maybe if they just killed someone for once they'd feel better, and wouldn't have to go around insulting everybody. Or maybe putting people down like that is part of what makes them feel like they're better than everyone else.” 

“I'm sure,” Nathan said, humoring him. “So, Wade,” he locked eyes with the mercenary in his ridiculous position on the couch. “Will you join my team?” 

“Nate, I...” Wade said, indignation draining from him as he rolled over sideways onto the couch, sitting up and sighing. “Look, I'm flattered you _asked,_ really, but I _can't.”_

_“Why not?”_ Nathan demanded, looking like he was about to lose patience. 

“Because of _that,”_ Wade said, gesturing to the crumpled paper still held in the mutant's right hand. 

“Wade, I thought we already _established_ that this is _bullshit,”_ Nathan growled out, crumpling the paper in his fist. 

“Some of it, maybe, but not _that_ part,” Wade said, standing up and coming over to grab the paper, uncrumpling it and pointing to the listing of Last Sighting(s). “I _am_ everywhere right now, Nate,” he said, making a vague gesture. “I have my own _solo_ series, I have my own _team-up_ series with other Earth-616 characters, I have a team-up with _other Deadpools_ from other universes, I have my own _versus_ series with other Earth-616 characters, I have series going in a bunch of alternate dimensions—one of which where I kill the Marvel Universe, another one with _zombies_ —Nate,” he said, dropping the paper and looking up at the larger man, expression almost apologetic, “I simply don't have the _time_ to appear in your X-Force team. And I mean, I'm a popular character, yeah,” he gave a not-so-humble shrug, “but I can only be spread so thin.” 

Nathan's teeth were gritted, and he looked kinda constipated, which meant he was angry and trying to keep from yelling. 

“Nate, the guys at _Marvel_ would never allow me to be part of your team!” Wade said, gesturing helplessly, watching the mutant's face like he was waiting for Nathan to try and punch him.  
“Wade, I...” Nathan took a deep breath, closing his eye, fists clenched at his sides. His left arm trembled. He opened his eye, blue and almost desperate. “I need someone I can _trust...”_

“Get Domino,” Wade said with a shrug, a few feet farther away than when Nathan had closed his eyes, though the mutant hadn't heard him move. 

“I already have,” Nathan grit out.

“Well, there you go!” Wade said brightly, clapping his hands together. “You don't need me!” 

Nathan's jaw was clenched so hard Wade could hear his teeth grinding. If this had been a comic, Nathan's teeth would probably have gotten their very own sound effect. “Domino is _not_ a replacement for you,” he ground out, glaring. And having an eyepatch, rather than an eye that glowed, did make his glares seem darker and more menacing. 

“She's not so interested now that you lost all the metal body parts, huh?” Wade said, smirking insufferably. “No doubt with her living-metal kink all her interest is gonna be in Colossus.” 

“X-Force will be able to get the job done without you, Wade, but it would be _better_ if you joined,” Nathan said, and suddenly he looked weary. Old. “Things would be _easier._ Go _smoother.”_

“Which is exactly why I can't be on the team, Nate,” Wade said, smiling what wasn't really a smile, tone softening and saddening, like an adult trying to explain to a young child what someone being _dead_ meant. That being _dead_ meant they'd never come back. “Things need to be _difficult_ for you, cuz that's what makes an interesting story. And there's no room for our relationship—you're gonna have your hands full just trying to deal with your relationship with Hope, trust me.” 

Nathan looked pained. “Wade... please, don't bring your comic book delusions into this...” 

“Speaking of Hope!” Wade announced brightly, kneeling down on the floor to drag a piece of paper out from under the couch, this page actually still flat, having not been crumpled at all. “I printed out what Steve wrote about her, too, in case you were interested.” 

Nathan paused, looking at the paper as though it might blow up and second.

“Don't worry, Priscilla, he only has good things to say about her,” Wade said with a roll of his eyes as he handed the paper over. 

Nathan's eyes scoured over it. 

~~~

**Hope**

_~inserted: photo of Hope after Cable died, Cyclops's hand on her shoulder~_

**Classification:** Mutant (human)

**Latest Sighting:** Utopia

 

The day mutantkind's ranks were decimated and virtually eliminated was one of the most horrible days I've ever witnessed. Then came Hope. A lot of people are pinning a lot of pressure and expectation on this child, the first mutant born since the mutant genome was all but erased. And frankly, I don't know how she can withstand it. Being told by so many people that you're the “messiah” of an entire race? That's daunting for anyone, let alone a teenage girl. I feel bad for her—raised in dystopian future after dystopian future. Not given any semblance of a normal childhood: no school dances, no movie nights, no birthday parties... just war and survival. That she's as well-adjusted as she is says volumes about Cable, her lifelong father figure. That she's recently dedicated her life to helping mutants says volumes about her. She's not running from the pressure. She's not being selfish with her amazing gifts and her unwanted role. She's turning into it and meeting it face-first. That's an X-Man for you. Hope, indeed.

 

~~~

Cable had a small, sad, proud smile on his face as he finished reading. 

“Yeah, Hope is a total badass,” Wade said from Nathan's side, glancing over the mutant's arm at the journal entry. “All the fans agree.” Wade glanced back up at Nathan, raising his marred, hairless brows. “You _do_ realize that you're not gonna be able to keep her from being a hero, right? She's stubborner than _you,”_ he poked Nathan in his ridiculously broad chest, “and what everyone says is a 'normal life' isn't normal for _her_ after how you raised her.” 

Nathan looked at the merc squarely. “She deserves a chance at—”

“You're an idiot,” Wade told him frankly. “She doesn't _want_ a normal life. Anyways,” he quickly changed the subject, prodding another piece of paper at the mutant, saying, “you wanna see what Steve has to say about you?” 

“Not really—” Nathan started flatly, but Wade shoved the paper into his hands anyway. 

“Relax, he likes you,” Wade said. He paused, looking thoughtful. “Well, maybe not _likes,_ but he _respects_ you, which is almost the same thing, kinda.” He gestured at the paper in Nathan's hands. “It's a little bit out of date, but whatevs, right?” 

Curiosity got the best of him, and Nathan looked down to read Steve Rogers' entry on him. 

~~~

**Cable**

_~inserted: photo of Cable looking grumpy~_

**Classification:** Mutant/techno-organic (human) 

**Latest Sighting:** San Francisco, California

 

After a life of intense tragedy, warfare, and self-sacrifice, Cable recently perished at the conclusion of the battle with Bastion, sacrificing himself to the techno-organic virus that plagued him since infancy in order to save several of his teammates. The son of Cyclops and a clone of Jean Grey, Cable was raised in a war-torn far future ruled by Apocalypse. Entrenched in warfare for decades, Cable sacrificed his wife, his son, and his loved ones over and over again in both the future and the past in an effort to save the world from a myriad of threats. Though Cable often employed methods I would never use, including lethal force, he was very effective at getting the job done, and I had great respect for him. After the birth of the young mutant messiah, Cable spent over a decade traveling through time with Hope in order to raise her. In the end, he got her back to the X-Men safely, bring all of them renewed hope. I can't imagine the pain Cyclops is in over Cable's loss. 

 

~~~

Nathan looked... slightly guilty, and maybe a little... sorrowful?

“Is that expression about all the mentioned loved ones you had to sacrifice?” Wade asked tactlessly. 

“Something like that...” Nathan said, looking at Wade again. “Are you _sure_ you won't join my team?” 

“Sorry, Nate,” Wade said, actually looking apologetic as he glanced down, rubbing self-consciously at a sore on his arm. “I'm a little busy saving the world from _other_ threats than what you and your team will be saving the world from. And just going about my business fucking stuff up. But, you know...” he glanced up at Nathan, before looking away again. _“Thanks._ For dropping by.” He scooted a gun across the floor with his toe. “It was nice to see you.” 

“It was nice to see you too, Wade,” Nathan said, putting a hand on the mercenary's shoulder, squeezing perhaps a little too hard to abide by societal standards. Not that either of them ever did abide by such standards, really. “And, if you're schedule ever clears... there will always be a space for you on my team.” Letting Wade's shoulder go, Nathan turned and began walking towards the door. 

Wade staunchly ignored the emotions in Nathan's tone, which he was ignoring further by not even putting words to. “I'll put your team on my waiting list,” Wade said, looking up to grin at Nathan's retreating figure. “I mean, it's like _everybody_ wants me to be in their comics, now. Even people like Hawkeye and Thanos, can you believe it?” 

Nathan stopped with a hand on the doorknob, turning his head to look back at Wade, lips twitching upwards in something that was almost a smile and almost a smirk. “When it comes to you, Wade, not even the _impossible_ is unbelievable.” 

“Heh,” Wade said, as Nathan opened the door, stepping out into the hall of the apartment building. “See you around, Nate.” 

The door shut with a _click_ and a slight _bang_ as Nathan closed the door a bit too hard. 

Kneeling down, Wade took out a pad of paper and a pen out from beneath the cushions of his couch, leaning back to sit on one leg, his other leg bent up so he could use it was a surface for the notepad, jotting something down. 

Peek over his shoulder, it could be seen that the page has a list on it, which reads: 

**The Wait List For People Who Want Comics With Deadpool:**  
*Wolverine  
*Carnage  
*Hawkeye  
*Thanos  
*SHIELD  
*X-Force

“Hm,” Wade considered, tapping the back of the pen against his jaw as he considered the lsit, “might want to move X-Force up above Thanos and SHIELD... and maybe Hawkeye, too... but Wolvie still gets first dibs, and Carnage has wanted to fight with me so badly (actually, I've really wanted to fight with _him)_ that it would be a shame to postpone him any longer than necessary...”

Wade grinned at the list. “Now to get someone from Marvel Marketing on the line!”

**Author's Note:**

> And that's how _Deadpool vs. X-Force_ came to be. True story. No, seriously. Would I lie to you? Just look at this super-believable face emoticon thingy }:P
> 
> Also, somebody really needed to tell Nate what an idiot he was being about Hope in the _Cable & X-Force (2012) _ series, even if he wouldn't listen.
> 
> And I cannot _believe_ how long it takes me to post anything on this site. I have such formatting problems ugh.


End file.
